


all is fair in love and war

by whaliiwatching



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Blackmail, Donald is a BAMF, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Louie's POV, M/M, No Mercy, happy valentine's day y'all, if i want fluff i guess i gotta write it myself, laser tag To The Death, or the acquisition of it, so is flinty and it's great
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:33:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22730281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whaliiwatching/pseuds/whaliiwatching
Summary: If there's something Louie is best at, it’s blackmail.He slips out his phone from his hoodie pocket. He’s not supposed to have it in the laser tag arena, but he wanted pictures of himself defeating Huey. This, though, looks like it has potential too...(louie stumbles upon a moment he just has to record.)
Relationships: Donald Duck & Flintheart Glomgold, Donald Duck & Louie Duck, Flintheart Glomgold & Louie Duck & Scrooge McDuck, Flintheart Glomgold/Scrooge McDuck
Comments: 10
Kudos: 139





	all is fair in love and war

**Author's Note:**

> i won't spoil the prompt cuz i don't wanna ruin the moment so it's at the end notes 
> 
> anyway happy remind-the-singles-of-their-loneliness day here's some sweetness to fill the void in your hearts

Louie is gone before the laser tag supervisor even says _go_.

This makes everyone nervous. Because two minutes before, when they were all gearing up for the game, Louie had told Huey that he’s going _down_ for drinking the last Pep in the manor, and Louie is by far the most competitive of the five kids present, very closely seconded by Webby (who’s on his team, so she doesn’t have to worry). 

But everybody else—namely Uncle Donald, Lena, Flintheart Glomgold, and Huey, all have reason to be very, very scared. Especially _Huey._

This is the first time any of them have ever played actual laser tag. Everyone figures, ‘We’ve all been on horrifying adventures concerning projectiles hurrying at alarming speeds toward us, we can handle fake bursts of light on fake armor,’ but laser tag is not quite like that. Laser tag means war in a way adventuring doesn’t.

Louie is the one who knows angles. Ever since Lena suggested laser tag as a family bonding activity one incredibly boring Sunday, he’s been considering and almost dreading the wild card of the situation: Glomgold.

Flintheart has been in and around the family long enough for Louie to pretty much consider him a second uncle. He and Scrooge, though officially dating (bleh), are still rivals, but in this sort of harmless, cartoon-violence way that’s always entertaining to watch and also film for blackmail.

 _But._ Louie has never seen him fight. And this is why he’s the wild card, because on Louie’s side, he could end up being a bumbling idiot and bring them down, and on _Huey’s_ side, he could be a hidden sniper.

Despite all that, Louie doesn’t think there’s much of a chance the Green Team will lose. 

Eleven and dangerous, Louie stalks between the glowing pillars of foam and weird plastic covering. His team consists of Scrooge, Dewey, himself, and Webby, and because of that he’s confident he’ll win. It’s a team of intelligent, daring adventurers! He can lie back and watch the mayhem and get his free soda prize without lifting a finger. 

(except he’s going to fight in this war, because huey drank the last pep and he deserves to lose by his triplet’s hand.) 

“Hey,” Webby whispers from beside him, “Lena’s just around the corner. I’ll distract her and you can get across and find Huey.”

Louie gives her a thumbs up and she rolls out from their hiding spot, releasing a lion’s roar while her and Lena’s triggers furiously click. Their plastic chest plates simultaneously groan, _You lost!_ and Webby laughs at the animated voices.

“You have an advantage,” Lena whines, but Louie can hear the smile in her voice. Taking his moment, he darts between the pillars, and hears no strike on his armor. 

He fist pumps at the other side and keeps running, avoiding open spaces, eyes sharp while looking for his triplet. “You’re going down, Hubert,” He whispers to himself. 

On the way to Huey, the green triplet passes the scoreboard for the game. Out of the other team, Lena is out, and on his own, Webby and Dewey. Louie curses them both, because Dewey went out immediately by Donald’s ray gun and he’s supposed to be the best at this, and the Green Team is supposed to be _winning,_ so both of them being out is frankly just rude.

Now that he’s thinking about it, though, he should’ve gotten Uncle Donald on his team. He fought in the _war._

Louie drops to the floor and army-crawls past a set of posts with a hole-spotted wall between them, spying Uncle Donald halfway through. He aims and lets loose a bolt of invisible light (he pretends it’s a bright, glowing laser spear about to dig into his uncle’s shoulder plates because that’s cooler) but Donald ducks just in time, and it doesn’t hit him. Instead, the _You lost!_ voice comes from just beyond, and Huey’s “Oh, come on!” makes Louie grin viciously. 

That leaves two more: Uncle Donald, who has disappeared into the maze, and Flintheart Glomgold.

Louie picks up his pace again. Uncle Donald will be on his trail. He scurries between walls and wonders where Scrooge is—the old duck made himself scarce early into the game, but he's the last one on on Louie’s side.

The green triplet glances around, but it’s hard to see in the dark, neon-splashed setting. So he crawls around to find him, regroup, figure out a game plan. Take down the wild card and the wild uncle.

Louie twists and turns and starts to regret wearing his hoodie. It’s hot around here, though shouldn’t it be cold, what with the lack of sun and light and things? He thinks about unclipping the armor, shrugging off his hoodie and not putting the armor back on, but there’s no place to hide such a vulnerability from an unsuspecting enemy. 

He slips behind another wall, eyes narrowed, vision undulating with pixels washing themselves over and over again trying to find light, and pauses.

“You’ve got Donald on your side,” Uncle Scrooge is saying. “He was in the navy for four years. He’ll have gotten someone by now.”

“Precisely why I recruited him,” Flintheart Glomgold says smugly.

Louie edges just enough to the side to see the two old ducks sitting and chatting behind a wall. Their guns are both still in their hands, but neither one is pointing theirs at the other. The neon lights reflect in their glasses and eyes and paint them in shifting rainbows.

“Oh, you’re a clever one, aren’t you,” Scrooge says, one eyebrow tilted as he looks back at his partner.

There is another thing Louie is good at besides angles, and it’s blackmail. (it’s uncanny how good he is at sniffing out the perfect embarrassing moment, and this knack has been the downfall of several of his family members during arguments and game nights.) He slips out his phone from his hoodie pocket. He’s not supposed to have it, but he wanted pictures of himself defeating Huey. This, though, looks like it has potential.

“Cleverer than the cleveries,” Flintheart snarks back.

“That hurt to hear.”

“I know it did.”

 _Old people flirting is weird,_ Louie thinks, but he doesn’t put away his phone. Something tells him this will be worth more than Scrooge’s money bin. 

“Do you know who’s out yet?” Scrooge asks, shifting closer to Flintheart.

The bearded duck shakes his head. “I heard Lena and Webby fighting, but I don’t know.”

Scrooge sighs, but he’s smiling softly. “If we’d invited someone else—Launchpad, maybe?—we could’ve had three teams, and a real alliance to take everyone else down.”

“I’ll take down everyone else for you,” Flintheart says. Louie wants to gag at the actual sweetness in his tone, comparatively more prominent than the humor.

Though, and no one will never know of this, he takes a moment to appreciate the South African accent, of which only returned a year after the triplets moved into the mansion and reportedly took several years to get him to reclaim. It’s much better than two annoying Scottish voices constantly reprimanding him for the amount of Pep he drinks.

Scrooge huffs a laugh. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Thanks, love.” 

“Anything for you.” And this—this is where Louie zooms in, till the video is centered perfectly on the oblivious couple (which, ew, but _blackmail is beginning to happen)_ and sharpened enough for him to see every detail in the shadows. 

Scrooge leans into his boyfriend's side and Flintheart turns his head to meet him in a kiss. They both smile sappily (ew). 

Then Flintheart shoots him in the chest and stands up, grinning like a maniac.

Scrooge’s beak follows him for a moment, then blanches in surprise at the sudden loss, and startles even more at the overt _You lost!_ sounding from his armor. 

Louie clamps his hand over his beak in order to keep himself from laughing his lungs out. His phone screen captures the astonished, lost look on his uncle’s face better than even his memory will.

Flintheart raises one hand and points a finger gun at Scrooge, a giddy smile crossing his face. 

“Oh my God,” Scrooge says faintly, still stunned.

“Bang, bang, babe,” Flintheart sings in return. 

Louie ends his video, amazed that he’d stumbled upon maybe the most hilarious thing of the year at least and still trying to quell the bubbles of cackling in his throat. He picks up his laser gun and aims at Flintheart, because there is no mercy in laser tag; that much is clear.

_You lost!_

Louie freezes. That was much louder than it should’ve been. Flintheart looks towards Louie and spots him, ray gun still in the triplet’s grasp, finger still against the trigger. 

But he hadn’t pulled it. That was his own jacket.

“No mercy,” Uncle Donald whispers from behind him. 

“No!” Louie shoots to his feet and readies his gun, clicking it as many times as his hand will allow. No sound comes from Uncle Donald’s armor—Louie’s gun has been deactivated. _“No!_ No, I was so close!”

“That’s just the way the cookie crumbles,” Uncle Donald laughs. He smiles at Flintheart, like this was their plan the whole time. “We’re good.”

“We are,” Flintheart agrees, grinning down at Scrooge, who’s still on the floor. The bearded duck offers his hand and Scrooge grows a grin and yanks him down onto the floor with him. Flintheart goes down easily, shaking with giggles.

Louie sighs in defeat and glares at his Uncle Donald. “You’ll pay for this.”

Donald's hand settles under his bill in consideration. Hope blooms in the green boy's chest.“You can say you got me—and I’ll comply,” Donald says thoughtfully.

“What? Really?”

 _“If_ you send me that video.”

Louie blinks at him. His energy returns. “Oh. Oh, yes. The one good thing in this whole debacle. _That.”_

Scrooge glances up at them both, brows drawn in suspicion. “What video?”

“Oh, nothing,” Louie says coyly, “Just the video of Uncle Flint making out with you and then backstabbing you _so very perfectly.”_

Scrooge stares at him, aghast. “Oh my God.”

“What a wonderful day this is for me!” Louie singsongs. 

The laser tag maze brightens, overhead lights flickering on to announce the end of the game. The overhead speaker announces brightly that the _Smarties_ have won over the _Sharpies_ and they’re very happy the Duck-McDuck family has joined them this afternoon. 

Louie groans. Scrooge curses in Scottish Gaelic. Donald and Uncle Flint high-five, and the day is good.

**Author's Note:**

> based on that notorious prompt by i think halleydoedog (that's what every image says) 
> 
> y'know, the one that goes, "take me laser tagging and then push me into a corner and kiss me. then shoot me and walk away"
> 
> it's a good one isn't it


End file.
